As if...

...I needed to prove myself any geekier than I have already demonstrated, I submit this as Exhibit A:OH HELL YES. I'm goin' to the auto show ON PRESS DAY, BITCHES!

I lovitty love love the LA Auto Show. I go every year, usually pestering my friends to go with me, then running them ragged as I have to check out every car and car widget in every square foot of the convention center. My little yearly slice of car heaven. I can almost hear the sighs of relief from my non-car-geek friends who are now off the hook for this year's show.

Just a little debate.

One of my neighbors in the building put a big sign in their window that says "Vote YES on Prop. 8 for less government!" For those of you who don't live in California, Prop. 8 is a proposal to ban gay marriage state-wide. This sign pisses me off, but not for the obvious reason. I would quietly disagree, but respect their opinion if all it said was "Vote yes on Prop. 8". But to try and disguise Prop. 8 as a weapon against "big government" rings of evil deception to me. So I taped a small paper sign to the outside of their window that says:

Someday, your grandchildren will look back on your attempts to ban gay marriage with the same disdain we now hold for our grandparent's misguided attempts to ban interracial marriage.

I hold little hope to change their minds, but at least they'll know there was one person outside their walls who wasn't fooled.

Understanding ear.

via Mary @ Cake or Death:

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish them - words shrink things that seem limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried when you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.

- Stephen King, The Body

The little things.

Little things amuse me. A few minutes ago I was in the men's room here at work, camped out in a stall doing my thing. A minute later, another guy walks in and takes the stall two over. Cool, he didn't take the one right next door. But then his phone rings... and I wait for the inevitable "Hello?"

Sure enough, he answers it. And I immediately flush my industrial strength, loud as all hell toilet in the echo chamber bathroom FIVE TIMES. I almost cackled with glee as he tried to talk, but finally gave up and had to yell "I'll call you back!" twice.

Goodtimes, goodtimes.

I gotta say (and feel the need to post), that right now is a really good time to be Steve. I'm old enough to have learned a little, and more importantly, am old enough to know that I still have a lot to learn. Plus, I'm young enough that I don't look all that old yet (just a few gray hairs on the sides), am not physically falling apart yet, can still understand most of the crazy jive them young whippersnappers are frontin', and am into bands that a seventeen year old wouldn't find repulsive.

Seriously. 37 is fitting me pretty damn well right now. When does the mid-life crisis hit? Historically, I've been about five years behind everyone my age, so I'm thinkin' I've got a good five to eight years of this groove I'm in before I need to consider growing up and being an adult. Err...